Welcome to the Give Us Your Best Excerpt Paranormal Romance Blog Hop! I’m delighted to be taking part, and I’m going to be showing off an excerpt from my M/F and M/M paranormal erotic romance novel, Pack of Lies. I hope you enjoy it! Then be sure to scroll down to check out the rest of the blogs on the hop!

*****

Isaac seated himself at the table in the corner, nodding and exchanging greetings with the villagers he passed on the way across the room, relieved that none of them were feeling talkative or wanting to discuss health issues. He wanted the atmosphere of the pub and the sense of not being alone, without feeling inclined to make polite conversation. Perhaps he was giving off that vibe too, because he was normally happy to chat away with fellow villagers about everything and nothing, yet nobody approached his table.

As he took a swig from his drink, he peered over the top of the glass and in the direction of the mysterious visitor. The other man was doing the same thing, and their eyes met. Only his lightning-fast reactions stopped Isaac from spilling beer down his chin and making himself look like a total moron. The other man’s eyes were a startling shade of green, unnatural and beautiful all at once. Hurriedly swallowing a couple of mouthfuls of beer, Isaac put the glass down and made himself maintain the eye contact before nodding and giving a little smile.

Well done, Isaac. That was polite but not over the top. Now look somewhere else. If you keep gawping at him, he’s going to wonder what’s up.

Shifting in his seat, he pretended to catch sight of the glass-covered artifacts behind him for the first time and then become transfixed, reading every word as though he’d never done it before. It was a stupid act, he knew, and he just hoped none of the villagers took any notice of him—they’d think for sure he’d gone barmy, looking at stuff that had been there for years. And the people in the know would wonder what else he could possibly learn about a time he’d lived through.

As it happened, the write-up allowed him to get lost in his thoughts for a while. They weren’t particularly pleasant ones, but they were welcome as a means to get his mind off the sexy stranger and his gorgeous green eyes.

In spite of the centuries, Isaac remembered Mompesson well, and Stanley, though for some reason he’d never gained the historical acclaim that the younger man had. But then there had been a lot of happenings back then that hadn’t been documented, hadn’t made their way into archives, and there were reasons for that.

Isaac sighed. It had been a horrible time, a devastating time. Words couldn’t describe. Even though he and his brother had been in no danger from the disease, they’d been around to watch friends and neighbors die, helpless to do anything to save them. All they could do was ease their suffering, pray with them and eventually help to dig their graves and bury their bodies.

After it had all finished, when the plague had finally died out, the brothers had been massively tempted to leave the village and never look back. The diabolical memories had just been too many, the nightmares too distressing. But Mompesson had talked them out of it, reminding them that that the village still needed its guardians. Needed them more than ever, in fact. Predators still needed keeping out of the village, away from the livestock. Not to mention the devastated families that had to get back on their feet, rebuild their lives, find a way to go on. A deep-rooted guilt had taken hold of the survivors and many of them were struggling to see a way past it, see a way to get back to normal. Mompesson had lost his wife, and somehow he was finding a way to carry on.

And so the two men had stayed, drawing on all their reserves of strength to get them through the tough times. Slowly, for the villagers as well as them, the pain had started to recede and life had begun again. Now, all these years later, Isaac couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be. He’d been born in the village and he was determined he would die there too, whenever that might be. It was his home, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually, and he had Mompesson to thank for that—otherwise he might have left and never looked back.

Turning and reaching for his beer, he lifted the glass in a salute to the man who had done so much good, then drank deep. Then, on the spur of the moment, he made a decision. Standing, he carried his pint across to the newcomer’s table.

“Hi,” he said softly, giving a friendly smile. “Mind if I sit down?”

Green Eyes gestured to the stool opposite. “Please do.”

“Thanks.” Isaac put his pint down on the table and held out his hand. “I’m Isaac Adams.”

“Nathaniel Marsden. But everyone calls me Nathan.” They shook hands for just a millisecond too long, then parted.

Clearing his throat, Isaac spoke again. “So, you staying around here? I haven’t seen you before, and as you’ve probably noticed this is a pretty small village.”

“I just moved here.”

“Oh right, excellent. Well clearly the rumor mills are faulty around here at the moment, then, because normally news like a new person moving in spreads like wildfire!”

The two men laughed, then Nathaniel said, “Nah, they’re not doing too badly. I literally moved in yesterday. I’m in a total and utter mess with boxes everywhere, so obviously cooking meals is out of the question. So I made my way here for something to eat that wasn’t a bloody sandwich and haven’t made it back home yet.”

“Fair enough. Sounds like a good enough excuse to me. And the meals here are delicious. I eat in here occasionally. Mainly when my brother hasn’t cooked anything for me and I can’t be bothered.”

“Your brother?”

“Yep. We share a house at the other end of the village, have done for years. It suits us, especially since we often work opposite shifts. I’m one of the doctors at the surgery and Matthew works in here. I suspect you’ve already spoken to him.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the bar. Nathaniel’s gaze shifted over there, then back to Isaac.

“The big guy, dark hair?”

“That’s him.”

The other man looked at Matthew again, then back at Isaac. “Yeah, I see the resemblance now. Cut your hair or grow his longer and it’d be even harder to miss. So he does the cooking, huh?”

It’s time for another Saturday Spankings, which is where authors post eight-ish sentences of a spanking on their blogs. Here’s another snippet from Grand Slam, the tennis-based M/F BDSM novel I co-authored with Lily Harlem. It follows on from last week’s. Enjoy! (P.S. I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping up with sharing and commenting as much lately – I’ve got some real-life stuff going on just now.)

“Just remember what it is your body is crying out for at this moment in time.”
More.
That was the word that jumped into my brain, flooding my thoughts and blinding me with shock that I could want more pain, more hair-pulling, more heat blasting through my body.
Suddenly he released me and stepped back. I staggered as he turned and left me staring at his shoulders.
I let my hands fall to my sides, pulled in a deep breath and watched as he walked to the window, spread out his palms on the glass and leaned forward.
“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at his feet.
I straightened my glasses and ran a hand over my disheveled hair, the sting in my scalp receding rapidly.

I hope you enjoyed that snippet! You can grab the book here. And then see the below list to hop to the other authors taking part…

It’s time for another Saturday Spankings, which is where authors post eight-ish sentences of a spanking on their blogs. Here’s another snippet from Grand Slam, the tennis-based M/F BDSM novel I co-authored with Lily Harlem. It follows on from last week’s. Enjoy! (P.S. I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping up with sharing and commenting as much lately – I’ve got some real-life stuff going on just now.)

He adjusted his hold on my ponytail of hair, stepping the pull up another level.
“Ouch.” I fisted my hands against his chest. “Travis, please, let me go.”
“If you promise me one thing.”
“Ow, yes, come on.” I squirmed against him. That really did bloody hurt now. “What?”
He shut his eyes, sucked in a breath. Pushed harder into my body as he squeezed me closer.
Even with the distraction of having my hair yanked I could make out his now completely solid erection.
“Travis!”

I hope you enjoyed that snippet! You can grab the book here. And then see the below list to hop to the other authors taking part…

It’s time for another Saturday Spankings, which is where authors post eight-ish sentences of a spanking on their blogs. Here’s another snippet from Grand Slam, the tennis-based M/F BDSM novel I co-authored with Lily Harlem. It follows on from last week’s. Enjoy! (P.S. I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping up with sharing and commenting as much lately – I’ve got some real-life stuff going on just now.)

I breathed in the air he was breathing out, warm and sweet. The scream of hurt in my scalp made me want to wriggle but being held so firmly and confidently kept me still. The heat of the discomfort slipped down my nape and neck and over my shoulders, then combined with the lovely sensation of him stroking my back.
“Can you feel it?” he whispered. “Pain mixing with pleasure, the lines between the two blurring.”
I could feel it with every fiber of my being. My skin was alive with awareness, my breasts were heavy and desperate for stimulation, and between my legs I was buzzing for action. Good, hard man action, preferably of the naked, sweaty variety. “Yes,” I gasped.

I hope you enjoyed that snippet! You can grab the book here. And then see the below list to hop to the other authors taking part…

He’ll unleash her indecent desires…in the most provocative way possible

Working for a celebrated photographer of lush nudes, many with BDSM themes, isn’t easy for Jodi. She’s full-figured, wholesome and longing for Mac, her bad boy boss. His shaggy hair, wicked tat and total hotness make her dream of ditching her work as his assistant to get down on her knees as his eager sub. If he’d only notice her.

Who says he hasn’t? As laid-back as they come, Mac can’t get over how uptight Jodi is around him…like he might bite her. Not what he has in mind. Her guileless nature and voluptuous figure do dangerous things to his self-control.

Lucky for him a client’s request has Jodi finally yielding to her sensual nature, because Mac’s fully prepared to dominate, demanding her submission, delivering punishment. In other words, an erotic takeover.

Buy Link: http://www.ellorascave.com/erotic-takeover.html

Excerpt:

Mac slung the leather strap over his shoulder and dropped the manacles on a table to the side. The lightweight metal clinked delicately in comparison to the noise of the savage music. Its harsh bass matched his pounding pulse.

He’d done it again. Without even trying, he’d run Jodi off. Every time he caught her watching him, she acted as though he was going to bite her…or maybe fire her. Was she worried about losing her job?

Mac hadn’t a clue. Since he’d been old enough to notice women, their emotions had baffled him. In middle and high school, the girls had liked how he looked and he sure as hell loved how they felt, so they’d hooked up for some good times. When those brief encounters had ended, there were endless recriminations and tears from the girls. Eventually, he’d learned to expect that. Females got pissed about nearly everything. They cried. They also survived to weep another day.

During college, he’d admittedly acted like a dog, mounting every woman who moved. No way would he get married even once or—god forbid—would he repeat his parents’ mistakes by tying the knot more than once. He was simply out for a good time and an education. Again there’d been the breakup fights. His ex-girlfriends always avoided him as they would an STD. But he’d never had a woman behave that way before he’d even touched them.

What was with Jodi? More than once, Mac had sensed her interest, seeing desire in her eyes when he unexpectedly caught her watching him. At first, he’d thought she’d disapproved of him photographing nudes for a living—especially with the added debauchery of BDSM. That notion had died a quick death when he’d noted her flushed cheeks and barely contained excitement.

No different from a few minutes ago.

For a second, she’d surrendered within his gaze, her hazel eyes glistening with arousal. Her lips had parted in seeming anticipation of his tongue or maybe his cock. In that moment, he’d again recognized a kindred spirit. She liked naughty games. She wanted a Dom to punish her for being bad then love her until he’d drained away her doubt, replacing it with wonder and joy.

Mac liked that. He enjoyed her.

Jodi didn’t come on strong like most of the women he knew. Shit, she didn’t come on at all. She sure as hell didn’t worry about her looks, which was a relief. Mac couldn’t count the times he’d tried to have a real conversation with one of the models—discussing the craziness of a current war or the horrors of the latest workplace shooting—only to have her nod absently while she caught glimpses of herself in any reflective surface she could find.

Jodi didn’t do that. She was unbelievably levelheaded and genuine. With her, Mac sensed a man could be himself. He wouldn’t have to put on a show and prove he was more than he could ever be. Imperfect was good enough. Being simply human would suffice. Her quiet manner and intelligence not only comforted, it aroused.

BIO:

I’m an award-winning, bestselling novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Kensington, Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Siren Publishing, Booktrope, and indie. Yay! Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly,Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised my work, and trust me, I’m forever grateful for that. I’ve had my books reach finals in the EPIC competition, one title was named Book of the Year at a review site, and others have won awards in RWA-sponsored contests. I’m actually featured in the 2012 Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Talk about feeling like a freaking star. Before my writing career, I was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern newspaper and worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company. Outside of being an admitted and unrepentant chocoholic, I’ve flown a single-engine plane (scary stuff), rewired an old house using an electricity for dummies book, and have been known to moan like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally whenever I’m eating anything Mexican or Italian. Yeah, I like to eat (burp).

It’s time for another Saturday Spankings, which is where authors post eight-ish sentences of a spanking on their blogs. Here’s another snippet from Grand Slam, the tennis-based M/F BDSM novel I co-authored with Lily Harlem. It follows on from last week’s. Enjoy! (P.S. I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping up with sharing and commenting as much lately – I’ve got some real-life stuff going on just now.)

“Ow, I—” A barrage of sensations blasted through my system. The feel of him pressing up against me, hot hard male, all wide pecs and solid thighs. The pain from having my hair tugged with force, and the awareness that my belly was shoved right up against his groin. A groin that held a wedge of thick flesh.
“Just feel,” he whispered, hovering his lips over mine. “Endorphins are rushing into your bloodstream, giving you a natural high as pain alerts your nerve endings that something exciting is happening.” He slid his free hand up my back, tracing the outline of my spine through my blouse.

I hope you enjoyed that snippet! You can grab the book here. And then see the below list to hop to the other authors taking part…